Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

2 ho is, has taken on himself the duty of supporting his mother. He has promised never to forsake her as long as she lives. Now, how old is his mother? Fifty years, at best. She is in good health, thank God ! she may yet live twenty, thirty years, perhaps longer. He hopes that, she may, the fine fellow! and he tllinks, no doubt, that, after her death, he will be too old to marry; that is the reason he has at once taken this stand. And it is meritorious in him, but that does not make it a—” “Pardon, master!” said the young man. interrupting him, gently; “youmust not give me more credit than I deserve. In supporting my mother, I only do as many others, who make no boast of it, because there is really nothing strange in it. If I married, I would take care she was not deserted. I know many of my condition, who have wives and children, whose mothers have not been made beg gars in consequence. If you wish to know the truth, 1 will tell you. No thought of my mother has prompted my resolution; none whatsoever.” “Then give me your reason,” angrily demanded Xavier, who could not but be irritated under such a succession of an noyances. “The reason—ah, the reason,” said the young man, with an embarrassed air. trying in vain to smile ; “the reason, good master. Bon Dieu !it is just an idea of mine. Voila /” “Eh! it is, indeed, an idea that you have,” vehemently exclaimed Xavier; “Luc, too, has his idea , who can only say thaf marriage is worth nothing. Margaret has her idea } she who pretends to honor marriage, yet always finds some loop-hole for getting away from it. An idea ! an idea ! but what is the idea ? Let me see, at least, if it be foolish or reasonable. Come, speak ! will you speak?” “Yes, I will speak, master,” gently replied Etienne, who seemed to become calm in proportion to Xavier’s excitement; “but it will only be to say that I am sure there are many affairs of your own you would not explain to me should I ask you. Now, you must kuow, that every one has some little secret of his own, also, to keep.” Xavier here rose up, gesticulating violently, “jEVi, man Dieu ! keep your secret, then, since you have one. I care nothing for your secret! no more than Ido for my old slippers!” “Oh, do not be angry, master; I do not wish to displease you. I cannot tell a lie, and then—” “And then, and then,” said Xavier, becoming more and more excited, the good man being no longer master of him self; “and then—one may truly say that you are all leagued together, like a set of thieves at a Fair, to thwart me, and make me almost curse myself! You are well matched! all three of you! do you hear ? Go to the devil, all of you together, you and your ideas ! Bon voyaye ! I wish you well ! Take care of yourselves!” And he dragged his cap down over his eyes, thrust his fists into his capacious pockets, and turned towards a stair-case that was near the dresser. Passing near Margaret, who had just put down her dis taff, he found himself suddenly stopped by a pair of plump arms, firmly clasped about his neck. “Good-night! wicked grand-papa !” “Let me alone.” But he did not resist as strongly as he might. “But when I tell you that it may be sooner than you think.” As she seemed to be in earnest now, and ho was so near her, he begun to look searchingly into her face. But she burst into a merry laugh in the midst of this grave examination. Then he took the pretty, saucy head between his two great loving hands, shook it well, kissed the forehead, and gently put it from him, saying, in a sin gularly touching voice: “Ah! if you would but for once be truly good to your old grandpapa!” and he reached the steps which he slowly de scended. The little bell of the mill hopper rung, but before answering the summons, Luc, who had risen, held out his hand to Mar garet, saying, with an accent, marked with peculiar sweetness : “My beautiful darling !” (This term of admiration, though not very concise for him, frequently fell from Luc’s otherwise parsimonious lips ; who, seeming to forget, in this instance, his usual economy of words, wished instinct ively to evince the importance attached by him to his affection for the young girl. “Good-night, my friend,” said Mar garet, who sweetly offered her forehead for the long kiss, which Luc pressed there with a look of beatitude. Seeing that she stopped near the door, where he was just going out, the youDg man paused. “Have you any resentment, Etienne ?” “Resentment?” “Yes, for the rebuff I drew on you just now.” “Oh!” began Etienne, with strange emotion ; but he restrained himself, and immediately continued, in a more meas ured tone: “oh, no, no resentment; good night, Madainoiselle.” “Good-night, Etienne.” Etienne went out, and Margaret, who looked after him, smiled, evidently well pleased with her own thoughts. [to be continued.] [From the Nashville Banner.] “ONLY A WOMAN’S HEART-” THE SADDEST STORY OF THE CRUELEST OF WARS. The most startling and tragic occur rence of the late war, not even excepting the wholesale slaughters of human beings in battle, was the killing of General Van Dorn, of the Cavalry Department, in the Confederate Army, by Dr. Peters, at one time a Senator in the Tennessee Legis lature. The tragedy occurred at Spring Hill, a short time previous to the 'battle of Murfreesboro’. The sad details of that affair, and circumstances which led to it, are too familiar to our readers to render repetition of them necessary here. The recollection of the sad story is revived by a paragraph going the rounds of the press to the effect that a daughter of Dr. Peters, young, accomplished and beauti ful, had arrived in St. Louis where she was about to enter a convent and take the veil. The St. Louis Times , of the 21st, alluding to her arrival in that city and the contemplated devotion of herself to the Church, says, feelingly, that “every calamity that war may beget has befallen her family, kindred, fortune, and home. The residence in which she dwelt from childhood, was in the path of a destroy ing army that swept wide districts with unsparing desolation. Every species of I property was destroyed, and she and an only brother, beggared, and fated to en counter even greater calamities, wander ing among strangers. The mother, a weaker woman than the daughter, ac customed to case, flattery, and every pleasure that wealth could buy, yielded, never criminally, to the llattery of an army officer, and overstepped rules of de corum prescribed by the social habits of the South. The father wreaked terrible vengeance upon him who destroyed the delights of his poverty-stricken home, and while the people approved the deed, there was bitterness insufferable in the cup of grief pressed to the lips of the faultless daughter. The brother bore ac cumulated misfortunes, unsustained by that divine faith which never fails to give consolation and strength, ilis sorrows made him insane, and in moody madness he dragged out a miserable existence. Life at length became insufferable, and in an evil hour he put a period to his exist ence. The sister lived to soothe a father’s sorrows and lighten anguish that almost dethroned his reason. She was divinely inspired. Her soft, sweet voice never lost its tenderness, and its very tones were silveay with hope that beamed from her lustrous eyes. She was a di vinity to guard him in midst of adversity— “ Bright as that, oh! too transeendant, vision, When heart meets heart in dreams Elysian ; Sweet as the memory of buried love, Pure as the prayer that childhood wafts above.” Time sped. The father’s grief became a fixed melancholy, and the Church his resource. The daughter, who reached St. Louis a few days since from a South ern city, has sought repose in the bosom of the holy Catholic Church. During the week she will assume vow t s of a sister hood famed the world over for those charities which this daughter of the South has learned so well to practice within the precincts of her own unfortunate household. We are induced to write this simple recital of her misfortunes that a sad chapter of personal history—an epi sode in that mighty volume of human woes to which the war gave origin— might find a place in the memories of men and be conned over by the good, and brave, and true w T omen of the land. London is never tired of admiring its own vastness and wealth, its population, greater than that of many kingdoms ; its trade, larger than that of India; the an nual addition of anew city to its extent and resources. It is well before the next hymn is sung to Mammon and his glory to remember this little fact. The num ber of London paupers relieved by. legal alms on the last day of February in this vear was 156,650. Add the professional beggars, the tramps, and the people who do not beg but remain dinnerless, and we shall find that London contains a population as great as that of Leeds with nothing to eat. The social cohesion must be strong which stands that strain. [Spectator. Joy in Grief. FROM THE FRENCH OF MARIE JENNA. “Blessed are they that mourn ; for they shall be comforted.” Friend! in vain thy bosom hides the sharp and cruel sword that wounds it, I have understood thy silence, and my prayer hath still been for thee; Cast away the foolish pride that shuts my heart against my friendship; Come, and weep before me. Well I know ; at there are days of heavy grief and lonely sneering, When the sou! doth find in solitude a grim and bitter pleasure; And the thoughtless world beholds its shrouded majesty p.ss by it, PaU and wrapped in silence. Then the frier, uy hand, uncertain, 6tops and hesitates before it, Fearing lest too rudely It may draw aside the veil of mourning; There are griefs so great and sacred that all human thought and language Dies upon the threshold. Now, however, days arc past; and it is time I came and sought thee; Oh! permit a friend to share the hoavy burden of thy sorrow; Put thy hand in mine, thy weary head upon my heart, and rest thee; I have suffered, also. I will not approach tlieo with those vain and heartless words of fashion, Words which grief receives aud spurns as mocking echoes of its wailing; No, I have a word to whisper that will bring a holy comfort— ’Tis a heavenly secret. If I might, as from an urn, before thy feet pour ©ut my treasures, Hope and peace would fill thy soul, now groping in despairing darkness. Light would shino upon thy pathway, sweet repose would mark thy slumbers, Dreams of happy moments. There are pure and lofty summits where the soul of man reposes; ’Tis the sword which cleaves our hearts assunder, opens up the pathway; Friend of mine, believe me, that the loss of all things counts as nothing, If those heights be mastered. Silly bees, wc flit from flower to flower in this world’s pleasure-garden, Drinking in their rich perfumes, and tasting of their honeyed sweetuoss; Resting there, and living on its passing charms as if its beauty Were enough for ever. There we dream away our life, and precious moments pass unheeded; Placing all our joys in pleasures fleeting as the Summer sunshine, Joys that vanish when the evening casts its shadows o’er the garden; Gone before the moonlight. ’Tis when robbed of human love; when seated desolate and lonely On the wide and arid desert, with no kindly eye to greet us; When the howling tempest rages, and the frightful darkness thickens, Comfort has a meaning. Then the brow defeat has humbled, and the heart grown sick with sorrow, Find an arm and hand divine to lean upon and bear its burden; And the spirit wrung with anguish, crushed by cruel disappointment, Sings a hymn unspoken. When, before the lost one’s footsteps, opens an abyss of horror, Then appears a bridge of safety stretching o’er the gulf’s dark passage; There, where danger threatens most, aud death menaces, God is standing Tell Your Mother.— l wonder how many young ladies tell their mother every thing ? Not those “ young ladies,” who, going to and from school, smile, bow, and exchange notes and cartes de visite with young men who make fun of them and their pictures, speaking in a way that would make their cheeks burn with shame if they heard it. All this, most credulent and romantic young ladies, they will do, although they gaze at your fresh young faces admiringly, and send or give you charming verses or bouquets. No matter what “ other girls do,” don’t you doit. School-girl flirtations may end disastrously, as many a foolish, wretched young girl could tell you. Your yearn ing for someone to love is a great need of every woman’s heart. But there is a time for everything. Don’t let the bloom and freshness of your heart be washed off in silly flirtations. Render yourself truly intelligent. And, above all, tell your mother everything. Never be ashamed to tell her. who should be your best friend and confidant, all you think and feel. It is very strange that so many young girls will tell every person before “ mother,” that which is most important that she should know. It is very sad that indifferent persons should know more about her own fair daughters than she does herself.— Fanny Fern. Holy Trinity.— On Sunday afternoon last (the 31st ult.,) Rt. Rev. Bishop Wood administered Confirmation to 190 persons at the Church of the Holy Trinity, Sixth and Spruce streets, Rev. P. M, Carbon, Pastor. A large number of those con firmed were children. [Correspondence of the Banner of the South.] COMMENCEMENT OF ST. JOSEPH'S ACADEMYJN MACON. Macon, Ga., July 2d, 1868. ) (Feast of the Visitation.) \ The annual examination of the pupils of St. Joseph’s Academy, under the care of the Sisters of Mercy, was brought to a close on this day, by the distribution of pre miums from the hands of Rt. Rev. A. Verot, who was aided by our worthy Pastor, Rev. L. D. Bazin, accompanied by Rev. T. Bertezzi. On this occasion, many very beautiful premiums were awarded to those pupils who had distinguished themselves during the past year. Also, a gold medal to Miss Margaret Burke, for proficiency in Chris tian Doctrine. The Musical performances were good; there were several Solos, con cluded by a Trio. The pupils, feeling deeply grateful to our kind Bishop and Father Bazin, who examined them fre quently during the last two weeks, ex pressed their sentiments in the following Address, delivered by Miss Ella Carroll, in a very appropriate manner. Right Reverend Father : I have come, on the part of my school-mates, to tell you now fully we appreciate the interest which you take in our improvement, to thank you for your patience in bearing with our defects, and to testify our gratitude for the very great encouragement which your ex pressions of approbabation have given to us. We know full well you don’t expect To find us free from all defect; Those blanks in Memory’s treacherous page, Are quite peculiar to our age. Besides, Bishop, this is the first year we have the honor and advantage of being ex amined by yon, and it is not at all wonder ful that simple little girls should become confused and embarrassed at the idea of being examined by a Bishop. “ We know that we are very backward; many of us have been unable to devote to our studies one-third of the time usually allotted to them during the scholastic year; but we hope to make up for lost time, by returning to school, on the very first day of the next term, and the consciousness of our deficiency shall stimulate us to re doubled assiduity in our studies; thus, we hope to redeem the past. “We wish, also, to return thanks to our kind Pastor. Father Bazin, for the interest which lie takes in our advancement; we hope to give him a practical proof of our gratitude by onr improvement in every branch, particularly in that sacred science to which all others should he subservient— that science which teaches us our duty to God, to our parents, and to our teachers. Once more, in the name of my school mates, I thank you. Right Rev. Bishop Verot, then, in a few words complimented the pupils on their pro gress in their studies; at the same time, re minding them that vacation was not given them as an inducement to idleness, hut as a means of acquiring more vigor and strength, in order to enable them to re sume their studies, with more earnestness, at the next term. The exercises were closed with the Episcopal benediction. Catholicus. ROME (GA.) CORRESPONDENCE OF THE BANNER OF THE SOUTH. Rome, Ga., July 2d, ISOS. Dear Banner : At last I find myself pre paring to give you an account of matters, &c., in this portion of our State. Leaving Atlanta on the last of June, I was, in a short time, landed at that beautiful road side village, Marietta. I secured quarters at the Kennesaw House—which, I may mention as being one of the most thorough establishments of the kind that lias greeted my sight since my departure; such a com bination of accommodations, viz.: attentive servants, splendidly furnished rooms, and a table that would satisfy the most fastidious. From the front, you have a view of scene ry that rivals any in the State. Proud old historic Kennesaw looms up in the dis tance, as a monument of glory to those gal lant souls who fought on crest and side, and gallantly died to preserve the pride of that Banner, upon which those that are left can look as in a bright mirror, and see reflected there the glorious deeds that des tined it to immortality. I strolled over the village, and viewed the National and Con federate Cemeteries, both filled with the fallen of the late war. It pained me to ob serve the great inferiority of the last rest ing place of our gallant boys, compared with that of the Federals; and, it certainly seems strange that the noble and heroic women of our land do not again renew their efforts to do justice to the clay of those noble men, who willingly sacrificed their hearts’ blood in the vain endeavor to place our sunny home on an equality with the powers of earth. Marietta is certainly a desirable place for a summer resort. Its advantages are : fine Hotels and Churches, elegant society, beautiful drives, and every luxury of the city; and, added to all, a climate that rivals in salubrity any in the country. I cannot see why the thousands of pleasure seekers will not patronize home institu tions, rather than distribute their means on the over-crowded and unhealthy North ern ones. Another object of note here, is the model Flour Mills of Messrs. Cook Cheek, one of the most complete of the kind I over saw; and to see the immense amout of Hour they turn out per day, would cause one to revel in the anticipation of cheap bread, were it not that the reports of the wheat crop are so gloomy. Leaving Marietta, on the State Road, the next place that greets the eye is Car tersville. Here, we find every evident of a growing and prosperous town, ( Exchange Hotel, with its connecting buil 2 ings, is one of the features ot the place Departing from this point, Rome was the next place that gave rest to weary and tired limbs. And to see the gigantic efforts at improvements that are going on at this place, would completely obliterate all impression of hard times. I counted some ten fine brick buildings in the course of construction. Here the Banner met with many kind friends, who kindly wished it success, and made many beautiful comply ments to its distinguished Editor, and they earnestly request that he will visit them and aid them in the construction of a Church, for ’which large amounts have already been subscribed. Yours, truly, § ’ LITERARY AND ART’ITEMS, [From the -New Orleans Picayune and other sources.] George Eliot’s poern, “The Spanish Gipsy,” has reached a second edition. The first sold in three days. The fourth (the concluding volume,) of Helps’ “ Spanish Conquest in America,” is published.— Holmes is writing anew poem. Horace Greeley has sent one hundred copies of his “ American Conflict” to London for distri bution among the most frequented of the public libraries of the United Kingdom. Prince and Princess Salm-Salm are so journing in Switzerland. She is writing her “ Mexican Diary,” and her husband a history of the siege of Queretaro. A Boston house will shortly publish “ The Modern Representations of the Life of Jesus,” four discourses delivered before the Evangelical Union at Hanover, Ger many, by Dr. Uhlborn. Translated from the third German edition. The Rev. E. H. Knowles has discovered that Swift’s description of a storm, in the voyage to Brobdignag, is copied from Sturmy’s “Compleat Mariner,” pp. 17 and 18, in his Mariner’s Magazine, fob, 1669. The English House of Lords—the Lord Chancellor pronouncing judgment--have decided that residence anywhere in the British dominions at the time of publish ing his work, entitles a foreigner to the benefit of the English copyright law. Church, the landscape painter, has re ceived an order to paint the falls of Schaft hausen, on the Rhine, from a German nobleman, who saw his “ Niagara” at the Paris Exposition last summer. Bierstadt has taken a studio in Paris for the next winter. He refuses to sell immediately his magnificent picture of Vesuvius. Those who have seen it report that it is a won derful success. Karl Muller, whose statuettes the “Pitch er” and “ Batter,” have attracted atten tion recently, has another statuette which will be offered to the public in about three weeks, called the “ Newsboy.” and said to be the best of his productions. The cele brated artist, Constant Mayer, is painting a picture having for its subject a juvenile hoot-black and newsboy. The Post says the Art season lias closed in New York. A correspondent of the same paper says : “ The city of Cincinnati is now favored with an exhibition of the largest and most valuable collection jt pictures that lias ever been gathered for public view west of the Alleghanies. This exhibition is under the auspices of the “ Cincinnati Academy of Fine Arts.’’ By a letter from Rome, we learn that Rogers is engaged upon a colossal statu*, commemorative of the soldiers and sailor' of Michigan, of which State he is a native. It is to be placed in a public square in the city of Detroit. lie is also designing a similar monument for Rhode Island. The same letter says: “Miss Hosmer beautiful studio is always open to visitor from her own country. It is filled with marvellous works of art. Next to Zeuobia. her reclining statue of Beatrice Cenci i one of her best works. She is at present engaged upon a full length statue of Benton, which was ordered by the city of St. Louis. A fountain, with laughing water nymphs aud lilies, for a private gentleman’s resi dence in London, is exceedingly attractive and beautiful. It is so arranged in the studio that water is made to play upon it while it remains on exhibition. ’Le Sleeping Fawn,’ and ‘ Pick’ putting hi girdle around the world in forty minute-, are greatly admired, and add much to tk attractiveness of this lady’s studio.” The Pope has had a medal struck to commemorate the great discovery of p rt " cious marbles on the river bank at the too of the Aventine. His Holiness has p re ' seated a line copy of the medal to Cow mendatore Viscount who discovered t.v marbles. The soil of old Rome, which seem? t bear an inexhaustible crop of arebo logical treasures, has just yielded an ex tremely beautiful specimen of mosaic am in the form of a pavement of a room ex > vated in the Villa Sterrato—a lane betAvev. the Barberini Gardens and the m-\v Con stanzi Hotel. Death of an Aged and Ext;:n?i^ : Known Priest. —The Rev. Father Secclii Murro, of the Order ot vants of Mary, and Confessor ot the 1 1 ’ * • fical family, died in Rome, June 1. long and painful illness, supported u - holy resignation. He was in the :>eN _ fourth year of his age. lie tilled the of Consultor of the Holy Congregation' * Bishops and Regulars, of the Propagm“ • ot the Faith, of the Index, of Sacred h and Examiner of Bishops and of the Clergy. This venerable servant 01 . ' enjoyed a world-wide reputation to. - varied and extensive learning. _ [Catholic Mirror. -